|
|
Post by PATRICK CONNER PATTISON on Mar 27, 2011 9:51:13 GMT 10
It was a normal Tuesday night for the boys. Patch’s mother was away. She’d started a casting agency a few years back for the young hopefuls that lived in the Massachusetts area, but didn’t have the balls to actually move to New York or Los Angeles where they were actually likely to get work a few years ago and she was off doing something for that. Patch wasn’t sure what. She might have told him but chances were she was boring or he was distracted. Anyway, none of that was the point. The point; the boys were playing video games and eating pizza. Which was a go-to plan when Patch couldn’t get Gabe to do anything else interesting. Which was most of the time, considering DJ Lance was the laziest lard ass that Patch had ever met. God dammit, why didn’t he think of mildly decent insults when he actually needed them? Instead of the el-lamo ones he usually sprouted out when he was upset. Okay, so that wasn’t a great insult, but it was better than his usual bullshit. Gabe would be impressed. Or mildly insulted. Either way. Really though, it was all Patch could get his best friend to do most of the time, and that was depressing.
He couldn’t lie though. He did love video games. His extensive collection was proof of that. Today the poison was Call Of Duty: Black Ops. Patch had won the Wii verses X box war with Gabe. Of course Lazy bum had wanted to play the X-box because it was the least effort. Gah, and that coming from a boy who played Wii bowling sitting down. Really. Why a boy like Patch was even friends with a boy Like Gabe was a complete mystery. Opposites attracted, or something like that. Pfft, people trying to use the science of magnetic when talking about relationships was lame. Anyway, Patch had won the fight mostly because he was still upset Gabe had gotten high without him. Oddly enough, he didn’t care that guilt had been the reason for his victory, or that Gabe was just trying to shut him up. All Patch cared about was that he had won the console debate and had gotten to pick the game. He liked winning. Mostly because he strongly believed that his own ideas were the right ones and everyone else was crazy if they didn’t agree. He simply refused to believe that anyone else could have a good idea if it went against his own.
The storm hadn’t really bothered Patch. They had been let out of school early because of the warning, so Gabe had been at his house long before it hit, so that wasn’t an issue. Really, Patch hadn’t taken the warning seriously. He’d been excited to get out of school early and hoping to see some cool lightning or something. They got severe storm warnings a few times every storm season in Capeside, and a lot of the time they were never as bad as expected, so the boy hadn’t really considered that this one might be. He didn’t even really consider how bad it was when the howling wind seemed to make the house creek, or when the disgruntled and wet Pizza man had shoved them their pizza and dashed off quickly, wanting to get out of the storm (and have a go at his boss for making him work in such horrid weather). That was Patch though. Nothing was serious for him. Well, except COD BO right then. He was completely invested in the game, his face set in a serious frown as he focused on the top half of the large screen TV.
He was just lining up for his third kill of the minute when it happened. The lights flickered, but he ignored them. In fact he was so drawn into the game that he barely noticed. However, as he pulled the trigger of the Wii gun, everything went out. Patch was silence for a moment as he registered what had just happened, then he let out a howl. “No!” The vowel of the word getting court in his throat as he elongated it in his howl of outrage. A blackout! A fucking. Blackout.
[/size] |
|
|
|
Post by gabe on Apr 5, 2011 21:22:57 GMT 10
Gabriel Sullivan had two modes most of the time. They were simple to figure out and not at all hard to identify. In fact, most things in the world also had these two functions. Well, at least anything that ran on electricity or batteries. Which, in Gabe’s world, was almost everything. The first function was play. Anything that had him in motion, talking, walking, eating, goofing off, were all various modes of play. The other, and more important mode, was pause. An absolute favorite of his, pause was considered anything that didn’t involve effort. When he was with Patch most of the time his switch was flipped to play because the other boy required attention. But the rest of the time he was usually being as lazy as possible. The thing was though - he didn’t switch easily between the two. One might assume the opposite of him but it takes a lot to get Gabe to settle or motivated. So, with each headshot, Gabe wasn’t even considering what the storm might do to his play mode.
Patch was easy to kill, easy to distract, so they had stopped playing against each other awhile ago and decided instead to play on a team and shoot people online. He’d lost the console battle, even though his argument about how the Wiimote was the most ridiculous controller on the face of the planet was completely valid, but not the game fight. He only let Patch think that this was the game he didn’t want to play. That way Patch was happy and he didn’t have to play something stupid. Really, he should have just been content with the fact that he had gotten out of school earlier and was goofing around with his best friend. But no, he had serious game face on. If he wasn’t winning what was the point of all this? Nobody played video games to lose. That’s why controllers ended up thrown through televisions. Besides, he and Patch only had a few minutes until the game was up and the winners were revealed. But, of course, that was when the storm he’d been hearing about all day decided to take it’s biggest hit.
“I quit.” There was no rage in his voice, just disbelief. He tossed the controller to the side and shook his head. “I just quit.” Weather. Fuck it. Why did it have to cut out the power? Electricity was what they lived off of! “What the hell are we supposed to do now?” Now, pause-Gabe would have no problem with the situation. No lights? No problem. Perfect time for sleeping. But play-Gabe wasn’t having it. It wasn’t time to pause! He needed something to do and the blackout was limiting his options severely! Short of suggesting they flip breakers and see if it was only them, Gabe could not process what to do next. The poor kid was so dependent on electrical devices that suddenly everything in Patrick’s house seemed foreign and boring. Like they were in the Little Fucking House on the Prairie.
“Are you kidding me?” This time his comments were directed at his friend. “They have to come back on.” Throwing his head back and slumping down in his seat, Gabe admitted an early defeat. It was no use trying to complain out an outage.
“We should probably get some candles.”
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by PATRICK CONNER PATTISON on Apr 8, 2011 11:51:06 GMT 10
Gabe may have been able to admit defeat easily, but Patch could not. Unlike Gabe, he only had one mode, and it was ‘play’. The only time the boy ever slowed down or turned off was when he was asleep. Even then his mind kept clicking over with crazy dreams. It wouldn’t be so bad, his constant need for stimulation, if one activity sustained him for a reasonable amount of time. He was fickle, and needed constant change to keep him content. Of course, he could be focused on a video game for hours at a time as long as the game had enough different features so he didn’t feel like he was repeating his actions over and over. He could be really annoying to play video games with, because he could get bored of a map before the round is over and beg to switch. Gabe was used to all that by now, and he was also really good at telling Patch No- that they were going to finish and to shut up. To which Patch would sulk until he either got his way or they finished said map. Generally the second. Gabe seemed more immune to Patch than others.
Glaring at the television, Patch threw, with as much force as he thought he could get away with without breaking anything, his controller at the chair to his left. Jumping up from his spot on the couch. The poor child wasn’t willing to admit that it was a blackout and that there wasn’t much of a chance of getting the power back. “I’ll fix it!” He announced, frustration clear in his voice. Bounding over to the television, he switched it on, then off, then on. Nothing. Growling in frustration he leaned down to jiggle the power cord. Still nothing. “It’s not working!” He yelped, almost crying. “Why isn’t it working! Gabe!” He turned to his friend, trying to see him through the dark. “Call an electrician,” he whined into the darkness, Slapping the flat screened device. As if it had personally offended him. Patch took everything as a personal offense to be honest. It didn’t matter what it was, or for what reason, if he didn’t get what he wanted it was some divine plan by the universe (or Gabe) to upset him. Which wasn’t fair. Why did everyone hate him? Couldn’t just for once things go his way?
Looking up at the ceiling, the boy let out a low sigh. Finally accepting the fact that it was a blackout, and there was not much he could do about it. He felt like crying really. It just wasn’t fair. Moving dejectedly towards the window, he parted the blinds and peered out into the street. It was completely dark. Not a single light was on in the whole street. Meaning not even ringing someone to come out would help. The whole street, and probably the whole city had been plunged into darkness by the stupid storm. God. Weather was such a little bitch. Turning towards Gabe, or at least where he thought Gabe was (the boy was having trouble adjusting to the darkness), Patch whimpered. “Do I look like the sort of guy who has candles? Or knows where candles are. Such a fag, Gabriel. Real men use torches.” He nodded, and then frowned. “... I don’t know where those are either, actually.”
[/size] |
|
|
|
Post by gabe on Apr 19, 2011 12:18:28 GMT 10
Watching his dimwitted friend's vague outline move toward the television after claiming he could fix it, Gabriel knew he was in for a long night. He couldn’t very well leave before the lights came back on and at this point there was no telling when that would be. At least Patch wasn’t completely boring and could probably keep them entertained even though video games were no longer an option. He thought briefly about asking if the other boy had any pot but he figured if Patch was holding he would have offered it up by now.
“Don’t call me that, asshole.” Gabe reached, having already stood up, to smack at Patch in the dark. When he connected all he felt was flesh but it was a good enough hit for him. Since the other boy was too lame to know where his mother kept emergency supplies and Gabe was observant and spent a lot of time at the Pattison’s home he went after the candles himself. Flicking the lighter he had fetched from his pocket to light the way, it was only a few moments before he produced them. That wasn’t so hard and now they could at least kind of, sort of, see. He did kind of feel like a douche standing in Patch’s now candle lit living room though.
“Speaking of fags,” he continued casually ignoring how lame this whole situation was and despite having just told the other not to call him that. “I went on a date the other night.” A grin took over his face as he found his seat once more and leaned back to indulge Patrick with his story. “And the dude was seriously so hot. We did something lame, went to the movies, and he tried to hold my hand the whole time. I guess his parents own a house here and they were in town for a week or some shit and I know, I know, don’t date tourists but the dude was on fire.” Gabe really didn’t care if Patch wanted to hear it or not he was keen on telling, not that he figured the other would complain because this wouldn’t be the first time Gabe told his friend about a date he’s gone on. Really, the two of them talked about everything even if they liked to play fight and call each other names any other time.
“Anyway, after the movie this guy was all over me. And, you know me, I was into it. So instead of hitting the road we hung out in the back seat of his car for awhile making out and stuff. So, he’s got his tongue in my mouth and his hand on my zipper and I’m like, fuckin’ awesome he’s gonna deliver. So he unzips my jeans and at this point I’m gonna let him do whatever he wants. And as he gets ready to, y’know, his phone rings.” Gabe ran his hands over his face as he recalled the frustration. “It’s his god damn girlfriend. And then he has the balls to tell me that they date other people all the time and she’s cool with it and that she knew he was on a date.” Shaking his head, Gabe leaned forward. “Can you believe that shit? Some balls. But, like… I let him do it anyway.” A grin. “And then he took me home and I said I’d call but I don’t plan on it. How’s that for a fag?”
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by PATRICK CONNER PATTISON on Apr 22, 2011 22:31:55 GMT 10
Finally admitting defeat, Patch made his way tragically from the window, like a man condemned, to flop down on the couch. Letting the other boy find them a light source, since he obviously seemed to know where everything was kept. He did wonder how exactly Gabe knew, but he couldn’t be bothered asking. The ejeet probably spent all his time just watching Patch’s mother to see where she put things. Instead, he just muttered something about how he’ll call anyone a fag if he wanted, and slammed a pillow over his face in frustration. He really was devastated at this whole blackout thing. He knew it was stupid or whatever, but he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t have to much else in his life to get upset about, so why shouldn’t he be attached to his video game? Okay, so he needed perspective. However how do you give perspective to a teenage boy who hasn’t ever really faced anything terrible or hard in his life. Well, besides his own deluded fantasies about his dad having an affair, but that wasn’t exactly real, just a bit of drama for him to feed off. He did that a lot, created drama because it was exciting.
“How is that a speaking of? Because you are a giant poofter?” He muttered, still with his face buried in the pillow. However, he didn’t interrupt the story. In fact, The sandy haired young man found his interest in Gabe’s date growing as the story unfolded. Unfolding himself from the pillow, Patch sat up. Now they had candles, he could see his friend in the glowing light. Cocking his head to the side, Patch couldn’t help but be drawn to Gabe’s lips as he spoke. Maybe it was the candle light or something, but he’d never really noticed the way his lips curved when he spoke. Patch frowned a little. His new found interest in Gabe’s lips was confusing for the young man, but he couldn’t take his eyes away. It was like that car wreck phenomenon or something. Only less blood and guts and more just, he couldn’t take his eyes away. Licking his own lips, Patch let out a gentle sigh. It wasn’t wrong, was it, to admire another guy? He hoped it wasn’t wrong or gay or something like that, because well wouldn’t that be awkward? Patch wasn’t gay. It was fine that Gabe was, but Patch didn’t want to diddle bums. No way, nope.
In fact, the whole story was pricking Patch’s interest... In well, some rather curious places. His stomach tightened as Gabe started to talk about macking with the guy. Part of it was jealousy. Which was fine- easy to explain away. Patch was pretty needy, and he always felt rather hurt when Gabe hung out with anyone besides himself. Date or not. The other thing twisting in his stomach was something much harder to explain away. His... well, you know, was getting tingly as the story ventured into the under the pants territory. It was just the idea of it, that was all. Not that it was two guys, or that it was Gabe. No. It was just, any member action and you had a teenage boy’s attention right? Yeah. That’s what he was going with. Rolling his eyes, he gave Gabe a nudge. “Such a slut.” He teased his best friend, however he wasn’t in a joking mood. His hand lingered in the fleshy spot he had nudged, and he swallowed. “What.. What’s it like, anyway?” He asked softly, his hand absently stroking Gabe’s side. Taking in a deep breath, he leaned in a little. “I mean like, a guy’s lips? Are they rough like, or soft like girl’s lips?” Now, Patch had always been the type to find out for himself. So, that was exactly what he did.
[/size] |
|
